


I Would Have Let You

by ephemeryon



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Blood Drinking, Book 2: City of Ashes, M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeryon/pseuds/ephemeryon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A more explicit version of the Simon/Jace scene on the boat in City of Ashes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Have Let You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote maybe 50 words of this, if that haha. So credit goes to Cassandra Clare, not just for characters and setting but most of the actual words, too.

Simon moved. His eyelids twitched and opened, his eyes rolled back into the whites. He gurgled then, a faint sound, lips curling back, showing the points of vampire fangs. The breath rattled in his slashed throat.

Nausea rose in the back of Jace’s throat, his hand tightening on Simon’s collar. He wasn’t dead. But God, the pain, it must be incredible. He couldn’t heal, couldn’t regenerate, not without—

Not without blood. Jace let go of Simon’s shirt and dragged his right sleeve up with his teeth. Using the jagged tip of the broken strut, he slashed a deep cut lengthwise down his wrist. Blood gushed to the surface of the skin. He dropped the strut; it hit the metal floor with a clang. He could smell his own blood in the air, sharp and coppery. 

He looked down at Simon, who hadn’t moved. The blood was running down Jace’s hand now, his wrist stinging. He held it out over Simon’s face, letting the blood drip down his fingers, spill onto Simon’s mouth. There was no reaction. Simon wasn’t moving. Jace moved closer; he was kneeling over Simon now, his breath making white puffs in the icy air. He leaned down, pressed his bleeding wrist against Simon’s mouth. “Drink my blood, idiot,” he whispered. “ _Drink it._ ”

For a moment nothing happened. Then Simon’s eyes fluttered shut. Jace felt a sharp sting in his wrist, a sort of pull, a hard pressure—and Simon’s back arched off the floor, the pressure on Jace’s wrist increasing as Simon’s fangs sank deeper. Pain shot up Jace’s arm. “Okay,” Jace said. “Okay, enough.”

Simon’s eyes opened. The whites were gone, the dark brown irises focused on Jace. There was color in his cheeks, a hectic flush like a fever. His lips were slightly parted, the white fangs stained with blood. 

“Simon?” Jace said.

Simon rose up. He moved with incredible speed, knocking Jace sideways and rolling on top of him. Jace’s head hit the metal floor, his ears ringing as Simon’s teeth sank into his neck. He tried to twist away, but the other boy’s arms were like iron bars, pinning him to the ground, fingers digging into his shoulders.

But Simon wasn’t hurting him—not really—the pain that had started out sharp faded to a dull burn and then straight into pleasure as Simon continued to suck the blood from his neck. The hands that had been trying to push Simon away a moment ago now pressed him closer. 

The pleasure grew and came in waves as Simon kept drinking and Jace arched up, pulling him still closer, pressing them together. He moaned and clutched at Simon’s shirt as he came in his pants, too overcome with the sensation to be embarrassed—

Pain lanced through his neck. He gasped and his eyes flew open; Simon was sitting on top of him, his hand across his own mouth, staring down at Jace, Jace’s neck, and Jace’s pants. He sprang up and backed away from him in alarm. 

Simon took his hand away from his mouth. The fangs were gone. “I could have killed you,” he said. There was a sort of pleading in his voice. 

“I would have let you,” said Jace.


End file.
